


Wingless

by vogue91



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Ficlet, Gen, Introspection, POV Second Person, Season/Series 06
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-07
Updated: 2018-03-07
Packaged: 2019-03-28 05:04:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13896873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vogue91/pseuds/vogue91
Summary: But they yell, they yell. They call you, now desperate, now furious, now begging.And you wish they could hear your voice inside their minds just like you hear theirs. You wish you could scream as well, tell them you’re useless. That you can do nothing for them, that they’re on their own.





	Wingless

Numb. That’s how you felt.

Empty, as if the shell containing you had become indispensable.

Angels were pure essence, yet you had completely forgotten about that essence, Castiel.

You think back to the days when angels wore the mask of humanity and comprehension.

Nothing more paradoxical, if you look around now.

You’re all dead, walking on the earth. Not spirits nor men, not good nor bad.

And you’ve become the master himself of this numbness, the one you never fail to wear on yourself, to show that you’re not a weak to a world that’s not watching you.

You’ve hurt Dean, and you know it. You’ve hurt innocent people, all in the name of a higher goal that is taking more and more the looks of a fairytale.

You wouldn’t want to hear their voices, reminding you how useless you’ve been these past few years.

But they yell, they yell. They call you, now desperate, now furious, now begging.

And you wish they could hear your voice inside their minds just like you hear theirs. You wish you could scream as well, tell them you’re useless. That you can do nothing for them, that they’re on their own.

That you’re nothing but a monstrous hybrid between myth and reality.

An angel who finally has his wings back, but who’s ashamed to show them.

An angel, who’s back being that cold piece of ice willing to do anything to obey the orders of a Father who likely hasn’t inhabited the Heaven in a long time.

An angel who, right now, felt envy for those of his brothers who had died for that infernal carousel that Paradise had become.

He closed his eyes and thought about them, wondering where they were.

Those dead for an ideal, those dead for fear or cowardice, those dead for a single moment of heroism. Like Gabriel.

And who had known sensibility and had been hurt by it, like Lucifer.

What you fear the most, admit it Castiel, is becoming like him. It terrifies you to this that disappointment could lead you to that much hate toward others.

For now, you just hate yourself and what you’ve become.

An angel that hasn’t fallen yet, but can’t no longer call himself an angel.

You’re almost dead, Castiel, but you keep walking out of some sort of illogical inertia.

_“Castiel?”_

Dean’s voice brings you back to reality. You wear the mask of the ice man and go to them.

Use up every second, while there’s still someone needing you. 


End file.
